Kratos: War for Middle-Earth
by ValarPrime98
Summary: After the end of God of War 3, Kratos is rescued by the Almighty God himself, to be given a chance at redemption. His first mission: to help the Heroes of Middle-Earth vanquish the Forces of Darkness! Chapter 8 is up guys! Kratos VS. Dark Ares
1. Chapter 1

Kratos. Ancient Greece had never known a more vicious, deadly and bloodthirsty warrior. Known as the Ghost of Sparta, Kratos had singlehandedly taken on the armies of Demons and Monsters from Tartarus, and slaughtered the Gods and Titans. Now, the Spirit of Athena, the former Goddess of Wisdom, demanded that Kratos give her what 'she rightfully deserves': the Power of Hope. However, Kratos was no fool.

"My vengeance…ends now." Kratos raised the Blade of Olympus, and for a moment appeared to be attempting to strike down Athena. Athena quickly backed off, but she didn't have needed. Kratos drew back the Blade of Olympus and, with a look of grim determination on his face, drove the Sword through himself.

"You fool! What have you done?" Athena screamed, pure shock and horror etched on her face.

Kratos roared to the heavens as the Power of Hope was released to the world in a blinding column of white light. The light mushroomed out, expanding until it had completely covered and dispersed to the entire globe. The Blade of Olympus ceased its glow as Kratos fell to his knees, weak from exhaustion and blood loss, the Sword still plunged through his torso.

"That was meant for me! Mankind will not know what to do with it!" Screamed Athena. Kratos gave a weak chuckle.

"You've lost, Athena. With the Power of Hope, humans will be able to rise and prosper without your rule. They will no longer need selfish Immortals to dictate and oppress them."

Athena's Spirit drifted towards Kratos, whose head was bowed down. She yanked his head up painfully, and spoke coldly, "You disappoint me, Spartan." Kratos gave a grim snort in defiance. Releasing his head, she yanked the Blade out of Kratos and drifted away, somewhat nonchalantly. Kratos was left, a giant hole through his torso, still spurting torrents of fresh blood. Unable to hold out any longer, the Ghost of Sparta, the former Great God of War, collapsed, his eyes shut.

Little did Kratos know that his actions were being watched by another. A God among Gods. A God to …. Pretty much everything in the universe. Up in Heaven, above all the planets, above all other Pantheons of Immortals, The Almighty watched Kratos collapse.

"He has a good heart. He has simply been consumed by anger, hatred and vengeance. With a second chance, he will prove valuable in the fight against evil."

With that, God channeled his power into a ray of Holy Light that descended down from Heaven all the way to where Kratos was lying, motionless. The Light enveloped Kratos for a while, and then vanished, along with the Ghost of Sparta.


	2. Chapter 2

When Kratos awoke, he found himself on a warm, soft bed. Shocked, he bolted upright, and found that to add to his bewilderment, the hole in his torso had healed completely.

'He's awake!' A clear, female voice jolted Kratos out of his state of shock and he looked around. He was surrounded by five beings covered in shining armor, their faces draped by hoods. The female voice appeared to have come from the one on the closest left of his bed.

'Who are you?' Kratos questioned warily.

'We are the Archangels of Heaven, Warriors under God, the Almighty Creator of All Things." Said the Archangel standing at the far end of his bed. 'I am Tyrael, Archangel of Justice.'

On the right of Kratos's bed, Tyrael gestured to two Archangels. "These are Malthael, Archangel of Wisdom; and Ithiriel, Archangel of Fate. " On the other side, Tyrael motioned to the two remaining hooded beings. "And these are Imperious, Archangel of Valor; and Auriel, Archangel of Hope."

The Archangels all nodded their heads at the mention of their names. Tyrael explained, "You were rescued by God himself, to be given a second chance at survival."

Kratos growled menacingly. "I do not serve anyone, nor do I have any intention to."

Tyrael raised his hand in a placating manner, "Calm yourself, God of War. At least come with us to the Almighty to settle things out."

The Five Archangels escorted a wary and reluctant Kratos to God. On their way, Kratos marveled at how beautiful and splendid the place looked. Olympus could not even begin to compare.

When at last, they arrived before God himself. The Archangels knelt down and bowed deeply, but Kratos did not, staring defiantly into the giant orb of Light above him.

"I will not kneel." Declared Kratos stubbornly.

"What?!" Imperious, Archangel of Valor started furiously. "You dare show disrespect to-"Imperious was stopped by Tyrael, who shook his head and put a restraining arm on his hand.

"Ah, Kratos. The Ghost of Sparta, Slayer of the Gods and Titans of Ancient Greece. You are finally awake." God spoke, his warm, soothing voice washing over Kratos. Kratos fought hard to remain stoic.

"Why did you rescue me?"

"I believe you deserve a chance at redemption. You are a good man, noble and valiant. You do not deserve to die without achieving the peace that you so desperately seek." God spoke gently, his voice radiating kindness and sympathy.

Kratos swallowed, his eyes blinking with unshed tears. "I killed them," Kratos said, his voice cracking. "I killed my family and destroyed my world."

"However, you did not do it on purpose. Besides, you have proven that you are worthy of something more, after your sacrifice. I do not ask for your allegiance, or your worship, Kratos. All I ask of you is your help."

Kratos looked up determinedly. "What do you need my help for?"

"Far away from your home world lies a land known as Middle-Earth. It is under attack from the Forces of Darkness. Sauron, Dark Lord of Mordor, servant to the Devil lays waste to the lands of the Free-Peoples of Middle-Earth. I have heard their cries and prayers for help. And I have chosen you, to be my champion."

"What?!" Kratos exclaimed.

"Help them Kratos. Lend your assistance to the Heroes of Middle-Earth. Vanquish the evil in Mordor and I assure you, you will achieve the peace you rightly deserve. Please. I implore you. This is for them, not for me. Do not let people lose their family members just like you lost yours. Do not let their world fall into darkness just like Ancient Greece now."

Kratos bowed his head, in deep thought. After what seemed like a lifetime, Kratos lifted his head, his eyes full of fiery determination.

"I accept."

The blacksmiths of Heaven reforged Kratos's Armor when he was the God of War. Kratos was also given a chalice of Holy Water to drink, which amplified and boosted his Strength, Durability, Speed and Stamina and gave him the power of Flight. The Holy Water, he was told, would also make him highly resistant to spells and enchantments from Sauron and his Minions.

"What about my weapons?" Kratos inquired. There was a flash of light and all of Kratos's weapons appeared before him: the Boots of Hermes, the Golden Fleece, the Blades of Exile, the Bow of Apollo, the Nemean Cestus, the Nemesis Whip and the Blade of Olympus. Kratos nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

"However, the Dark Lord and his servants are certainly no pushovers. They have enough power to rival the Gods themselves. Hence, first, we will give you new weapons." Tyrael said.

"Allow me," Auriel started. Kratos watched as the female Archangel telekinetically lifted the Blades of Exile and enveloped it in a sphere of white light. Auriel waved her hand and the light disappeared. The Blades of Exile were still levitating in mid-air, but their Blades had now grown to almost a meter long. Kratos gaped.

"From now on you will be able to adjust the length of your Blades at your own will." Said Auriel. "Long Blades can be used for dealing greater damage and for greater mobility and precision." Kratos took the Blades of Exile and stared at the elongated blades for a moment, before waving his hand and reverting them back to their original length. He then turned nodded his thanks to Auriel, who inclined her head in return.

Imperious, Archangel of Valor, arrived. "These, God of War, are Longswords forged from the Celestial Metal Adamantine; and imbued with Divine Powers. They are specially designed to pierce and slice through about anything, and they are, for all intents and purposes, indestructible. May they fare you well." A pair of Long Swords with hilts of Gold and metre-long blades of gleaming metal appeared in mid-air in front of Kratos. Grabbing the Divine Adamantine Swords, Kratos tested the feel of his new weapons. They were almost as light as feathers in his hands, but Kratos could feel waves of power emanating from them into his palms.

"Oh, Yeah. I could do with these." Muttered Kratos, admiring his new Swords.

"You are ready, Kratos," Said the voice of God. "I will bless you throughout your journey in Middle-Earth."

"Alright," nodded Kratos. "But you have not told me how I will find peace from this voyage."

Though Kratos could not see it, God was smiling. "Have patience. You will know for yourself once you have succeeded on your quest."

There was a flash of white light, and Kratos found himself whirling through time and space, until his feet finally touched solid ground.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 IS UP!

WARNING: Intense graphic violence in this chapter.

Kratos found himself standing in the middle of a battlefield, the grass stained red and … black? Kratos looked up and focused his eyes on a vast, seemingly endless stretch of monstrous, man-sized creatures glaring at him.

"Who are you, foul beasts?!" Kratos roared, not at all daunted by the newfound menace.

"We are the fighting Orcs. We serve and only serve the Dark Lord Sauron of Mordor. And we will destroy you, worthless human!"

Kratos threw back his head and laughed mirthlessly. "Human? You ignorant fiends, you know nothing! You face Kratos, the Almighty God of War!"

Then, quicker than lightning, he hurled the Blades of Exile forward, where the Blades, shooting out by the ends of their chains, anchored themselves deep in the nearest Orc. Kratos pulled back, and dragged the screeching creature towards him in a flash before, in one swift, fluid motion pulled out the Blades and decapitated it. With a mere thought of his mind, the Blades immediately extended into metre-long, curved killing machines.

Whirling the Blades of Exile in a dizzying frenzy around his head, Kratos lunged at the Orcs with a deafening roar. He drove the Blades of Exile right through the torsos of a pair of Orcs before wrenching them out savagely, ripping out bits of BLACK flesh as he did so. The Orcs didn't have time to squeal before Kratos violently sliced their heads clean off.

Kratos then spun the Blades at a dizzying speed, creating a slashing cyclone that cut down the many Orcs that attempted to surround and overwhelm him. The chains of the Blades retracted, and Kratos turned to face a number of particularly large and black Uruks that attempted to assault him from behind. Charging, Kratos's Blades shot out by their chains and with enough force to cut even Hercules open, Kratos slammed the Blades right down onto the hapless Uruks, leaving behind a black, bloody mess of limbs, torsos and strewn innards with flames consuming them.

Not giving the Orcs any opportunity to regroup, Kratos went on a savage assault, impaling, skewering, disemboweling and cleaving his way through the hapless Orcs who could do practically nothing to repel his relentless attacks. Unleashing the Fire of Ares, Kratos pushed out with his hands that released a devastating torrent of flames that engulfed and incinerated dozens of foes.

Kratos mercilessly tore open another particularly large Uruk open with the Blades of Exile. Orcs and Uruk-Khai alike lay dead at his feet by the thousands. Deciding that it would be better to use his pair of Divine Adamantine Swords, for the sake of greater mobility and precision, Kratos unleashed his Divine Swords with a another simple thought. A Uruk-Khai lunged, scimitar at the ready, but Kratos, too fast for it, sidestepped and clove its head neatly in two. Turning he drove the Swords through another pair of Uruks, impaling them before slicing them into two through the torso upwards. He flipped an Orc over and drove a Sword down on him, before skewering another behind him without looking back.

Kratos then begin to spin his body around with such speed it was a blur, his Divine Adamantine Swords also becoming a blur as he spun like a cyclone. Orcs and Uruks alike squealed in agony as the whirling Divine Swords cut them into ribbons like spinning helicopter blades. Kratos then halted, and lifting his hands towards the sky, the Divine Swords vanished and a gigantic, 10-foot mystical Sword of pure energy materialized in his hands. Leaping into the air, Kratos brought the Sword down on a column of Uruks, neatly cleaving them completely in two.

* * *

Bolg, renowned Orc Warchief and spawn of Azog the Defiler, had just clobbered an enemy Elf with his massive war club when he witnessed the carnage that Kratos had left in his wake. His eyes widened in disbelief as they followed the trail of mutilated corpses to the Ghost of Sparta himself, who was preoccupied with literally, making mincemeat out of the pitiful Orcs using his Divine Adamantine Swords. Snarling, Bolg raised his war club and charged Kratos.

Kratos turned to face Bolg just as the huge, scarred Orc brought his club down on Kratos. But it never made contact. Bolg was stupefied to see that Kratos had caught the weapon in his mighty grip. Before Bolg could react, Kratos punched Bolg in his jaws, causing him to fall and knocking out a good number of his teeth. Kratos then unleashed the Nemean Cestus and leapt into the air, bringing one of the gauntlets down onto Bolg's head. Bolg didn't have time to scream when his head was split like a watermelon, leaving a mess of black blood, bone fragments and a flat, rubbery mass on the ground that used to be his brain.

The Orcs and Uruk-Khai watched on in terror. That man had slain their fearsome Warchief Bolg almost effortlessly. Kratos was breathing heavily after his fresh Lieutenant Kill, when he turned and saw the remainder of the Orcs. Drawing the Blades of Exile, he roared and charged.


	4. Answers to Queries

Hi Guys, this will just be the clarifications to a number questions which some of you might have.

1\. Where in Middle-Earth is Kratos?

Ans: Frankly I'm not 100% sure, but my best answer to you is the fields of the Pelennor.

2\. In which timeline is Kratos in e.g. the Fellowship, the Two Towers etc.

Ans: This might be prone to changes, but my planned timeline for this Fanfiction is set 3 years after the events of The Return of the King.

3\. From the answer to the second question, you guys might be wondering, "OMG Sauron is alive?! But he was destroyed in ROTK!"

Ans: Sauron may have been fully destroyed, but evil can never be fully destroyed. It just loses and takes another shape in order to make its return (In this case. It's kinda taking the same shape). Sauron doesn't need the Destroyed Ring to stay dead, and if you know your Middle-Earth lore well, you would know that Sauron isn't the greatest evil in Middle-Earth. (No More Spoilers)

Hope these answers your queries! Special thanks to MewLover9000 for asking on everyone's behalf!


	5. Chapter 4

Kratos continued his massacre along the Fields of Middle-Earth, laying waste to the armies of Mordor. A pack of Battle Wargs, snarling and baring their teeth at the hostile, charged at Kratos. Little did they know that Kratos had had plenty of experience dealing with creatures like them before. Smiling slightly at the memory of how he had easily dispatched the Hellhounds and Cerberus Hounds in Tartarus, Kratos extended the Blades of Exile.

Charging, he slammed the Blades down onto the Wargs, leaving a plume of flame in his wake. The Blades cut mercilessly through a pair of Wargs, splitting their heads in two. Fire from the swords shot to the sides, charbroiling the other creatures. " **Firestorm Rend!** " Kratos unleashed an upgraded version of the Cyclone of Chaos, with the Blades whirling around in a dizzying vortex of flames and rapidly biting the pathetic Wargs. If the Blades didn't slice them to ribbons, the mystical fire incinerated them. Soon, all but one of the Wargs lay slaughtered like sheep on the field. Enraged by the death of his mates, the last Warg sprang in a final, desperate attempt to avenge them.

It had barely reached Kratos when Kratos caught it by the scruff of his neck and slammed it to the ground. Before the Warg could recover, Kratos caught its jaws and, almost lazily, pulled back his right hand and snapped its upper jaw, before shoving downward with his left hand and completely breaking its lower jaw. Finally, the Warg slumped down to the ground, dead.

News of the hostile newcomer spread like wildfire across the ranks of the Orcs, and their enemies as well.

"A lone man slaughtering our foes like nobody's business?" Aragorn, the High King Elessar of Gondor inquired. Grime and sweat were all over his face, and he was standing outside his tent cleaning his Sword, Anduril. "We must see him immediately. He could be the answer to our prayers."

"Just because he is killing our foes does not mean he is on our side," Eomer, King of Rohan replied, his hand resting on the handle of his Sword, Guthwine. "For all we know, it could just be a madman on a killing spree, attacking anything in sight."

"I agree with the Horse-Master." Gimli the Dwarf said, nodding his head and resting his hands on his War Axe. Legolas, Elf-Prince, who was standing beside Gimli, nodded as well.

"We must be cautious."

"I believe all your worries are unfounded." Everyone turned to look at Gandalf the White.

"Three days ago, I prayed to Almighty God, Eru Ilúvatar himself to help us in defeating our former enemy Sauron, who was resurrected by his Master, the Accursed Morgoth. He replied that he would send a champion, a 'Marked Warrior' specifically to aid us in our time of need. From the battle reports, the man is painted in white and red, he is essentially 'marked'."

Eomer still looked skeptical. "You really believe God sent him?"

Gandalf nodded earnestly. "You must bear in mind, Eomer that we would all not be here today if not for Eru's Grace. It was the Heavenly Lord that resurrected me after my battle with the Balrog, when even my death proved beyond the capacity of the Valar. It was also him who intervened three years ago at Mount Doom, causing Gollum to fall with the Ring and allowing Frodo to succeed in his quest. Aren't we being ungrateful if we doubt his will now?"

No one argued with that. "It's settled," Declared Aragorn. "We will ride out to see him immediately."

The Enemy, on the other hand, were sending its best Warchiefs to attack the newcomer. Kratos, with his Divine Adamantine Swords, was poised at the ready. The first to arrive was Gundza, the Shield-Master. "Get him!" roared Gundza. His Orcs surged forward in a mad rush to avenge their fallen comrades. Quicker than lightning, Kratos drove his Swords right through a pair of Uruks, skewering them neatly. As he pulled them out and the two slain creatures fell, Kratos cut and sliced his way through the ranks of Orcs like scythes through long grass. He had sliced off an arm of a massive Uruk-Khai before hewing its head clean off, before Gundza slammed his shield into his face. However, to Gundza's shock, the shield broke off into splinters while Kratos's face barely had a scratch on it.

Kratos turned to Gundza. "You shouldn't have done that." He growled menacingly. Trying to stop himself from shaking, Gundza clumsily thrust his spear at Kratos, who effortlessly caught it and snapped it like a twig. Unleashing the 'Wrath of Zeus', Kratos called down a massive column of lightning that fried the Uruk Warchief to ashes.

As the Orcs continued to surge forward in endless hordes, Kratos, using the 'Rage of Poseidon', summoned a colossal maelstrom with lightning bolts crackling all around it. Pandemonium ensued. Orcs and Wargs were thrown about by the merciless winds. Trolls and Uruk-Khai were incinerated by lightning. When the storm had subsided, over half the attackers were gone.

Taking out the Bow of Apollo, Kratos fired a barrage of flaming arrows, setting the War Trolls ablaze. Orc Warchiefs, Dushrat the Shadow and Nazdug the Biter, seemingly unfazed by Kratos's power, charged at him. Nazdug was the first to reach him. Getting onto all fours, he snarled like a wolf and leapt into the air at Kratos. However, Kratos was more than ready for him. Drawing the Blades of Exile, Kratos thrust his weapons forward, the Blades shooting out from their chains and anchoring painfully into the Orc's chest. Kratos pulled the screeching Nazdug toward him before step siding at the last moment and slamming the Warchief forcefully onto the ground. Kratos turned to face Dushrat, slicing off his right arm before grabbing his shoulder and stabbing him multiple times with one of the Blades. (One of the Moves from Mortal Kombat 9)

Dushrat fell to the ground, coughing up black blood.

"You…won't…get away with this…"Dushrat snarled.

"Our master…will…defeat you…"coughed Nazdug.

"Even if he does, at least I'll take all of his minions with me." Kratos, walking over to Dushrat, lifted him up by the scruff of his neck, while the Orc feebly and unsuccessfully tried to pry his hands off. Twisting his hand, Kratos looked on with disgust as Dushrat's neck broke and snapped with a sickening 'crunch'.

Turning his head, Kratos looked on with amusement as Nazdug tried desperately to crawl away. Taking out a Divine Adamantine Sword, Kratos shoved the Blade through the Warchief's head, shattering his skull and puncturing his brain completely. The Spartan then cut downwards, and Nazdug's corpse fell to the ground, his head neatly cloven in two.

Kratos was about to go when a voice commandeered, "Halt! Who are you?"


	6. Chapter 5

Kratos turned to face the newcomers; a large company of warriors on horseback. Some wore gleaming, silver armour and held long spears with great flags of black with a picture of a white tree on it. Others wore armour of reddish-brown and green colours, and were armed with spears and shields. The flag the latter carried was of a green background with the picture of a galloping white horse on it.

"I am Kratos. I come from the land of Sparta, and am hailed as the God of War, the Ghost of Sparta, and the Slayer of the Gods of Olympus! I was sent by the Lord Almighty to aid the Heroes of Middle-Earth in their quest to vanquish evil. If you be an enemy of Mordor, then you can count me as your ally."

The head of the company, a tall man with a gleaming crown on his head and dressed in mail and armour with a long sword at his side, stepped down from his horse and went over to Kratos.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the High King Elessar of the Kingdom of Gondor. Long have we battled the evil forces of Mordor, and our people are paying the price. If you have indeed been sent by God to aid us, then your arrival has never been more welcome." Aragorn bowed graciously to Kratos.

Kratos looked closely at Aragorn. The King carried himself with an admirable air of pride and dignity, just as royalty should, yet Kratos could also notice the sincerity in his voice and the honesty in his eyes. Already, Kratos was putting his trust in Aragorn.

"Many thanks, High King. Perhaps you could introduce me to the rest?"

Aragorn motioned his hand to a very tall, slender, youthful man with strangely-pointed ears. "This is Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of the Elves of Greenwood." Legolas gave a short bow. Beside him was a rather diminutive, fat man with a huge, red beard. A massive War Axe was strapped across his back. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, who is currently a general among the Dwarves of Erebor." Gimli inclined his head slightly.

"Faramir, my Steward and trusted Minister." Faramir, fresh and clean-shaven, smiled and bowed his head. "Eomer, my trusted friend and the King of Rohan." Eomer, rather haughtily, curtly nodded. "And this is Gandalf, the White Wizard. It was he who foretold of your coming." Kratos's eyes widened as he stared at Gandalf, a kindly old man with a flowing white beard. In his right hand he held a long, white staff, while his left hand rested of the hilt of a sword.

"How is it that you foretold my arrival?"

"Quite simply, I received a vision from God Almighty himself. It was he who informed me of your coming to Middle-Earth. Words cannot describe how relieved we are to have your aid."

Kratos nodded absentmindedly, his mind still swimming in doubts towards his ultimate goal for coming here; how was he going to achieve the peace that he sought?

"If you do not mind, we would like you to join us for our victory feast tonight." Aragorn inquired.

At the mention of 'feast', Kratos snapped out of his reverie. A growl from his stomach served as a reminder as to how hungry he was. "Thanks, your Majesty. I would very much like to."

* * *

Kratos's jaw hung open as he stared up at the City of Minas Tirith. Never would he expect such an architectural masterpiece to be present in the Mortal Realm. He marveled at how the city gleamed in the sunlight, standing tall and majestic. Even the palaces of Olympus, weren't nearly as tall as Minas Tirith, thought Kratos, and the citadel's majesty and beauty rivalled those of above said palaces. We shall not dwell on the description of the White City, or we'll be stuck here till somewhere next week.

So, to put a long scene short, Kratos joined the Heroes of Middle-Earth in the Great Hall in celebrating their victory with a sumptuous banquet. Kratos was introduced to Aragorn's Queen, Arwen, whose youthful beauty took Kratos's breath away. Other than Arwen, Kratos was also introduced to Eowyn, Faramir's wife and Eomer's sister. Unlike Arwen, noticed Kratos, whose eyes radiated kindness and peacefulness, Eowyn's eyes, though kind as well, blazed with a passionate flame that indicated a much more forceful and heated personality. Nevertheless, Arwen and Eowyn both smiled graciously at Kratos when introduced to him. It was revealed, during the banquet, that Eomer's wife, Queen Lothiriel, was staying at Rohan to manage the kingdom's affairs in her husband's place.

Kratos was seated on Gandalf's left, on the table facing that of Gimli and Legolas, and was directly on Aragorn's right. As the feast began, Aragorn stood up, a goblet of wine in his hands and everyone, including Kratos followed suit. "Tonight, we celebrate our victorious battle against the dark forces of Mordor, all thanks to our esteemed visitor here," Aragorn gestured to Kratos. "Kratos, the God of War, the visitor from the faraway land of Sparta, was sent here by God himself to aid us in overcoming this adversity. This feast is not only a celebration, but also a token of appreciation to him." There was a great round of applause at this.

The Ghost of Sparta ate ravenously, wolfing down great chunks of tender, roasted meat and afterwards gorging himself on the vast diversity of fresh fruits, all the while filling himself with beer and wine.

"Hungry, aren't you?" chuckled Gandalf. Kratos nodded. "I haven't had such a good feast since I was a general in Sparta." As Kratos said those words he remembered how he had killed his wife and daughter, and massacred that entire village, and his face sunk. "That was a long time ago." There was no mistaking the gloom in his voice.

* * *

Later, when the feast had ended, and the guests had retired, Aragorn had servants show Kratos to his room. After this was done, Aragorn moved quietly to the conference hall, where everyone was seated in a marble, round table that was not unlike the famed Round Table during King Arthur's time.

"There is more to this newcomer than meets the eye." Gandalf began. "He wasn't just some random Champion sent by God, and it is also quite clear that his origins are not of God and his Angels."

"I agree." Said Arwen. "After observing him, I notice an aura of pain, loss and melancholy around his ferocity and savagery."

"Um…so…" Eomer began, "the point is?"

"He isn't coming here just to help us, we think." Said Legolas. "It's also to help himself. To rid himself of whatever he supposedly did in the past haunts him."

Gimli raised an eyebrow. "Why should helping us help Him?"

Aragorn sighed. "Redemption, Gimli. By helping us, he is redeeming himself in God's eyes and in his own opinion, and therefore able to let go of his past misdeeds, whatever they are."

Eomer narrowed his eyes. "Did he say something about slaying the Gods of Olympus?"

Gandalf nodded. "If what he says is true, then it's no wonder God sent him. A God…a God that wiped out the rest of his entire Pantheon singlehandedly…"

Eomer continued, "But the way he said it, was like he was proclaiming, BOASTING about it. I don't think that was what he was feeling remorseful about…"

"Look, we aren't gonna find out anything by just speculating. We need to ASK HIM PERSONALLY. But only until he trusts us enough. Only then can we help him achieve peace. We are Allies, after all." Aragorn declared with finality. "It's late. Let's rest ourselves properly for the battle tomorrow."

With that, the Conference was dismissed.


	7. Chapter 6

The Orc Lieutenant blew a sharp horn, and the seemingly endless multitudes of growling, savage monsters advanced, brandishing scimitars and spears. Legions of Orcs marched forward, followed by units of huge, elite Uruk-Khai, flexing their muscles threateningly. Behind rode a large company of Orcs atop great, snarling Wargs, and then there came the War Trolls, armed with massive cudgels and clubs. The Trolls were led by the Olog-Hai, bigger, scarier and almost definitely stronger than the average Battle Trolls. (By the way, in case you aren't aware, Olog-Hai do exist in the original LOTR Canon; the Troll that was fighting Aragorn in ROTK).

On the other side, in a protective barrier in front of Minas Tirith, the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth rallied their forces. The Elven Archers stood at the front, as well as the Rangers of Ithilien, testing the longbows' strings. Behind them were many thousands of Elves and Dwarves alike, the Elves sharpening their swords and the Dwarves firmly grasping their axes and hammers at the ready.

The infantry troops of Gondor and Rohan (Gondor especially, since majority of Rohan's forces were the cavalry) were stationed behind them. The Tower Guards and Citadel Guards of Gondor, highly elite and seasoned soldiers stood at the front of the lines of Gondor's infantry. The unhorsed Swan Knights of Gondor, and the elite Eored Axemen and Swordsmen were lined up orderly behind. And last of all, at the back, were a great many Knights of Gondor and battle-hardened Riders of Rohan.

The battle began when the horn sounded. Orcs and Uruk-Khai roared and ran at full speed towards their enemies, fuelled by bloodlust and an inhuman savagery. Elven Archers and Ithilien's Rangers let loose a flurry of razor-sharp arrows, most of them hitting the target and dealing a death blow. The lines of the Archers parted, and the Axe-Throwers among the Dwarves assembled between the spaces, before letting off a volley of fatal axes that found their targets. Despite this, the Uruks were undeterred. The Archers retreated, and the main melee troops surged forward.

* * *

Elves and Dwarves lowered their long, pointed spears and charged into the fray of Orcs, impaling many of them like well-done kebabs. The Elves moved with all the grace and elegance associated with their race, dealing strokes of death every time they swung their swords. The Dwarves put their brute strength and combat prowess to good use, hacking mercilessly at the ranks of the Orcs with their large War Axes, or flattening them with their great Hammers.

Gimli and Legolas were the first to enter the battle. Brandishing his two Battle Axes, Gimli hacked off the legs of an Uruk in quick succession before putting him out of his pain with a cleaving blow to the head. He swung his axes in great killing sweeps, felling the surrounding Orcs. Legolas calmly fired arrows after arrow into the ranks of the Uruks, impaling many of their heads on them, before drawing his Elven Knives and well…if someone had an iPhone and took a video of his knifework, and then posted it on YouTube, the most apt name for that video would be 'Tutorial: How to make mincemeat out of Orcs the elegant way!'.

It wasn't long before the sheer number of the Orcs was beginning to overwhelm the Elves and Dwarves, and the combined forces of Gondor and Rohan surged forward to meet them. Once again, many Orcs were skewered like satay (Malay dish that involves grilling meat on a skewer stick) and more fell to the deadly swords of the Gondorians and Rohirrim, but those brave men only enjoyed their success for so long. Before long, more bodies of soldiers from Gondor and Rohan alike piled up on the Fields of the Pelennor.

As if things couldn't get any worse, the Warg Riders descended like ferocious Hounds from the deepest depths of Hell onto the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth. Terrified, they faltered and the voracious Wargs were quick to pick them off. The ranks of Gondor, Rohan, Elves and Dwarves fell into disarray, with many falling prey to the combined assault of Orcs, Uruk-Khai and Wargs.

* * *

Just then, a soldier from Gondor pointed towards the sky. "Look!" Everyone, friend and foe alike, looked up. A huge, burly man, marked in ominous white and red, was flying WITHOUT wings at a tremendous speed. There weren't any aeroplanes in middle-earth, but all those down below would've have gotten a good idea of what an F-22 Raptor Jet flying at full speed sounded like, from the sound that was made from the man's flight.

That man, of course, was Kratos. He hurtled towards the ranks of the Orcs like a falling meteor, but not before he heard the collective cries of "It's him! It's Kratos!" and the joyous cheers from the Men, Elves and Dwarves and the shrieks of terror from the Uruks as they recognised their new foe.

" **Tartarus Rage!"**

Kratos slammed the flaming Blades of Exile down onto the Orcs, chains shooting and extending to their full length. Flames lashed out at the surrounding Orcs, charbroiling them like well-done steaks. Kratos landed on his feet with a loud 'THUMP', knocking back the Orcs, but he didn't give them time to recover.

" **Army of Sparta!"**

Suddenly, a phalanx of Spartan warriors appeared around Kratos, and they stabbed outwards repeatedly with their long spears, and thus earning that battle the award of 'Most Number of Orc Kebabs done.'

With renewed effort, the Free-Peoples of Middle-Earth surged forward, brandishing their arms. The phalanx of Spartans disappeared, and Kratos drew his Divine Longswords.

" **Divine Sword Tempest!"** Kratos spun in circles so fast that the wind around him picked up tremendously until a cyclone formed, with his Divine Swords spinning like fan blades. The Swords shone with Holy Power, ready to purge any Evil Creatures unfortunate enough to meet it in battle. Orcs and Uruk-Khai howled and screamed in terror as the Tempest of Divine Swords sliced and tore them neatly to shreds. Withdrawing his Swords, Kratos gathered his Godly Power into the form of a massive, 10-foot tall Divine Sword of pure energy, before hurling his hands down and bringing the Sword down on the enemies. Those Uruks that were in direct contact with the Sword were vaporised completely, while those caught in the blast radius of the Holy Power were incinerated and knocked off their feet.

* * *

Just then, the ranks of the Orcs parted suddenly before Kratos. Kratos didn't need long to figure out why. Coming through the parting was a huge, White Warg and atop it, a massive Orc with pale-white skin. There was a wicked, curved Blade where his left arm was supposed to be and in his right hand he held a massive War Mace.

"So, you're the bastard who murdered my son Bolg." The Pale Orc sneered.

"YOUR son?! I can see the resemblance. He inherited your ugliness." Kratos mocked.

The Orc's face contorted in fury. "You will be sorry you messed with Azog the Defiler!"

The Warg snarled and charged towards Kratos.

Kratos drew the Divine Sword of Olympus and charged as well. The Warg roared, bearing down on Kratos, until its face slackened as it realised that Kratos had impaled it on the Sword. Kratos then savagely yanked out the Sword, and the Warg flew back with Azog on it. Azog flew off his mount and tumbled painfully onto the field, several feet from where his fallen Warg lay.

Roaring and charging, Kratos reached Azog and punched him in the face, knocking out a good measure of his teeth. Azog barely had time to wipe his mouth before Kratos unleashed the Nemean Cestus and enclosed the gauntlet around Azog's neck, lifting him up effortlessly into the air. For a moment, it seemed like all hope was lost for Azog.

However, at that moment, Azog lifted his War Mace and struck Kratos with all the strength he could muster. Stunned by the blow, Kratos let go and staggered backwards. Seizing the opportunity, Azog rained blow after blow of his Mace on Kratos, each blow sending Kratos back a little, though Kratos suffered no visible injury. Snarling with anger and annoyance, Kratos dodged Azog's next blow and drew a Divine Adamantine Sword, slicing off Azog's right arm. Azog howled in agony but Kratos didn't give him time to recover. Unleashing both Divine Adamantine Swords, he impaled 1 Sword through Azog's torso before mercilessly driving the other Sword through his head, before cleaving the Sword downwards and splitting Azog's head and torso in two. Azog's lifeless body fell to the floor, spouting torrents of black blood.

Terrified, the Orcs and Uruk-Khai began to back away. At that moment, a great storm of hoofbeats was heard as Aragorn, Eomer and the other Captains led the Knights of Gondor and the Riders of Rohan in a massive cavalry charge that swept the enemy away like a flood. Kratos joined Aragorn and Eomer in battle, slaying and eliminating any remaining Uruk that dared to oppose them. It was a repeat of the former Battle of the Pelennor Fields, and, with Kratos aiding them, the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth achieved a greater victory than they ever could have imagined on this field.

Author's Note: So Sorry for the wait guys! Been really busy with schoolwork and tests.


	8. Chapter 7

"So, a Marked Warrior singlehandedly slew and laid waste to our armies?" The dark and ominous voice, laced to the tip with evil, hissed in the darkness of the cave. "Y-y-yes, Master Sauron." Squeaked the terrified Orc scout. "They say his name is Kratos, the God of War."

A second voice, even harsher and scarier than the first, echoed through the cave. "So Ilùvatar has sent his champion. A mindless brute of a God haunted by his worst memories. Pathetic." In the dim light of the cave, the Orc scout could see that the speaker appeared as a very tall man, as tall as or perhaps even taller than an Elf. He was donned in Black Armour, with a large, spiked helm of shiny black on his head. His face was pale and ghastly, with gleaming, fiery red eyes and a cold, twisted expression on his face that clearly indicated his malice and cruelty. Yet, his face was also handsome and noble, a sign of his previous heritage as one of the Valar. This was Morgoth, Middle-Earth's version of Satan, the Supreme Lord of Evil and Chaos in Middle-Earth.

"How do you plan on destroying him, Master? From what I have heard he slew the Greek Gods themselves." Sauron, wearing his usual black helmet and armour inquired.

"I cannot stay for long. The Devil has summoned me elsewhere, so this is what I can do." Morgoth stretched out his hands and waved them, and as he did so mists of black smoke gathered and concentrated together until a man-like shape. "Haunted by your past, Kratos? Well, since you proclaim yourself the God Of War, I'll see how you deal with my God of War. Arise, my Dark Ares! Avenge yourself and destroy Kratos!"

The dark smoke gradually settled and dissipated, and Ares stood in its place. His eyes were now a gleaming crimson, with black mist rising from his body. His hair, formerly red, was now a horrible clash of red and black, along with his armour which had black accents as well. "I live to serve you, my Master. Kratos… I will show him who the true God of War is". Both Dark Ares and Morgoth had the same gleeful, sadistic smile on their faces as their evil laughter rang and echoed throughout the dark cavern.

* * *

"Tonight, let us raise our goblets and drink to the man, no, **God,** without whom our great victory today would not have been possible. Let us drink to Kratos!" Aragorn announced with a large smile on his face. He and Arwen raised their goblets full of wine.

"Hail Kratos!" The voices of the men of Gondor, Rohan, Erebor and Mirkwood rang throughout the Great Hall of Minas Tirith.

Kratos stared at all their faces, his eyes moistening. There it was, that familiar feeling, the joy of being praised by his Spartan King Leonidas and celebrating victories with his soldiers. It took all his willpower not to burst into tears of happiness.

Eomer came forward, cleared his throat and said to Kratos, "Lord Kratos, I cannot express my gratitude enough for our victory. I am truly ashamed to have been suspicious of you. Will you forgive me?"

Kratos nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I never once took offence." Eomer, smiling in return, bowed and retreated.

* * *

Aragorn, Arwen and Gandalf smiled expectantly at Kratos. They had invited him to give a speech and tell them about his story. Kratos had been reluctant at first, but after Gandalf promised with a knowing smile that they would not judge him for what he did, he agreed.

Kratos's eyes sept the Hall a couple of times as the guests all looked at him expectantly, waiting for his speech to be given.

'Free Peoples of Middle-Earth! I do not deny the great joy and pleasure I felt when you all heaped praise upon me! It is pleasing to once again be surrounded by…comrades."

"Before I was a God, I was a general from the land of Sparta. Since young, every Spartan male trained harshly to become a soldier. We prided ourselves on being the fiercest and strongest warriors in all of Greece. I won many victories as a general, and celebrations with my brothers-in-arms were as good as the fighting in the battle itself. It has been so long since I got to celebrate a victory with my fellow soldiers."

The Hall was completely silent as the men looked at Kratos sympathetically.

Kratos took a deep breath a continued, "However, it was not to last. There came a battle, where it was I leading 10,000 of my Spartan brothers against 200,000 ferocious Barbarians." The audience's eyes opened wide in amazement. Fighting an army twenty times their size? It was clear the Spartans had guts.

"We Spartans thrived when we were outnumbered, knowing that the enemy were no match for our fighting skills. Or so it seemed in this case. Many Barbarians were slain, but my brothers fell rapidly as well. Death and defeat were upon us. It was at that point…I made a decision I would regret for the rest of my life."

Kratos took another deep breath, trying to control his emotions. "I prayed to Ares, the God of War before me for victory, in exchange for being his slave." Kratos shook his head wearily. "It was my greatest mistake. In exchange for victory that day, I became Ares's personal manservant, raiding villages, slaughtering innocents, and spreading chaos in his name. Under the God of War's influence, I became utterly ruthless and gradually lost any semblance of humanity he once had. One day, during a raid on a village of Athena's followers, Ares secretly transported my wife Lysandra and daughter Calliope to a nearby temple. Ignoring the warnings of the village oracle, I entered the temple and slaughtered everybody inside in a fit of blind rage, including… wife and child (whom I believed were still in Sparta). Ares justified this as a means of severing my remaining attachments to the world of mortals, thereby molding me into the perfect warrior." Tears began flowing freely from Kratos' eyes. "I…I never forgave myself for that. I left their bodies to be burnt in the temple, and renounced my servitude to Ares. The oracle cursed me, that I would forever wear the ashes of my dead family on my skin." He gestured to his ghastly white arms. Everyone was staring at him in horror.

Kratos began crying even harder now, despite his best efforts to stop it. "And then…the nightmares wouldn't stop. Even after I'd killed Ares, even after I destroyed the Olympian Gods who betrayed me, I was still haunted by the deaths of my family. Every night…I dream about killing them…over…and over again…I try to stop myself…but I can't…and it always ends with my hands stained with their blood…" Kratos couldn't take it anymore. He buried his face in his arms and wept.

Everyone in the Hall bowed their heads low.

After Kratos had calmed down, he looked up and stared at everyone in the Hall. "However, I am grateful to have been given a second chance. God Almighty himself revived me and gave me new weapons and power, so I can find peace within myself and liberate your world. I do not ask that you sympathize with me, I only ask for me to fight alongside you."

There was a stunned silence. Then thunderous applause.

Gandalf faced a stunned Kratos. "I told you you wouldn't be judged. We would be honoured to fight alongside you Kratos. Also, you can always find us to talk to if you ever need to talk about your past."

Kratos's eyes welled up with tears as he grasped Gandalf's hand. "Thank you."


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hi Guys. I'm sorry to say that while I WILL finish this story, my passion for it has diminished considerably; I guess I just can't commit to long stories. I WILL finish this story, but don't expect a story with a lot of details. In fact many events will just be summarised in one sentence rather than with actual dialogues and descriptions. Sorry :(**

* * *

That night, the Archangel Ithereal appeared in front of Kratos bearing a message from God: Sauron's forces march on Rohan, and a revived Ares is leading the charge. Kratos, grinning, replies, "I look forward to destroying him again."

The next day, Kratos informed the Lords of Gondor and Rohan about the message he had received. "They will reach there by noon today." He concluded.

"But we'll never make it back in time! It's a three-day ride back and my people have no idea what's coming." Eomer cried desperately.

Kratos stepped forward and merely replied, "I'm a God, dude. I can create a portal to get us there instantly. Ready your troops." An overjoyed Eomer agreed.

Less than half an hour later, Kratos created a massive portal of shimmering blue light, larger than an army tank with a wave of his hand. He stepped through, along with Eomer and 8000 of his Mounted Rohirrim.

They did the necessary; Eomer reunited with his beloved wife, Queen Lothiriel, the people of Edoras evacuated, and the Rohirrim laid an ambush for the Orcs.

Later at noon, Dark Ares arrived with a massive army of Orcs and Uruk-Khai, preparing to massacre the people; instead all they found was an empty city. Horns sounded as the Rohirrim sprung their ambush. Spears and arrow flew and the Orcs were thrown into disarray. The Riders of Rohan, led by King Eomer brandishing his sword Guthwine, tore through the ranks of the Orcs on their horses, riding them to ruin.

"ARES!" Ares barely had time to react before a massive fist slammed into his jaw. He doubled over and fell to his feet. Kratos stood over him, an expression of utmost loathing on his face.

Wiping blood over his face, Ares stood up, a wicked grin on his face. "Vengeance will be mine today, Kratos. When I have torn you apart, joint by joint, I will help my Master Morgoth to lay waste to Middle-Earth, and I will have the power to rebuild Olympus, in my own image."

"You underestimate me, Ares."

"We shall see."

* * *

The two Gods of War launched themselves at each other like tigers about to tear each other apart. Kratos parried Ares's first blow and began raining painful blow after painful blow onto Ares. Ares grunted in pain as Kratos's fists of fury came slamming into him one after the other, knocking the wind out of him. He tried to retaliate, trying to land an uppercut, but Kratos was too quick for him. He caught Ares's fist before slamming his head into Ares's head. Ares was thrown back by the force of that blow. He shook his head, trying to clear his dizziness.

"You dare to fight here, you who hath destroyed your own world? You think saving this world will help you find peace?" Ares taunted. Kratos hesitated, guilt and self-hatred beginning to consume him. Unfortunately, the hesitation left him open and vulnerable.

Ares rammed his body into Kratos, hurtling him back about five feet before Kratos caught his balance. But before he could recover, Ares blasted him with a torrent of Flames, before unleashing a barrage of deep, painful stabs from the sharp crab claws that had materialized from his body. Weakened, Kratos fell to his knees, only to be subject to Ares's brutal kicking. But he couldn't care less. He struggled, but it was half-hearted. He was too consumed by his guilt and self-loathing to do anything. Ares lifted Kratos up by the neck.

"I will reunite you with your wife and child. In the end, Kratos, you're no God. You're just a sad, pathetic little man trying to escape his past." Ares laughed maliciously.

Those words snapped Kratos back to the present. A voice inside him roared with fury and defiance at his words. **"I…will…not…lose!"**

Drawing one of the Blades of Exile, he hacked off Ares's arm in a flash. Ares barely registered the flaming sword before he felt a gut-wrenching pain in his limb, and saw to his horror, the stump where his arm had once been. But he smiled again.

As quickly as his arm was hacked off, it regenerated on the spot. "You cannot overcome my regenerative powers, Kratos. The Dark Lord Morgoth gave me this himself."

Kratos laughed mirthlessly. "Unfortunately for you, Ares, God gave me regenerative powers too. And since you were born out of evil darkness, did you know that, granted with God's Holy Powers, I CAN see the source of your regenerative powers. Unlike you, my regenerative powers have no definite source. It's in my BLOOD. It is all of me. Unfortunately, that is a privilege that Dark Creatures like you can't enjoy."

Ares blanched in horror; he could tell Kratos wasn't lying.

He didn't have time to think of a counter before Kratos slammed into him with the Nemean Cestus, punching him square in the chest with both gauntlets. Ares flew hundreds of metres back and slammed painfully into the nearby mountainside. He fell to the ground, but Kratos didn't give him time to recover.

Picking Ares up by the neck, Kratos roared and plunged his fist through Ares's chest, before his fist stuck out on the other side. And he held Ares's pitch-black, still-beating heart.

"NO!"

Kratos grinned. "Yes." And he squeezed the heart, easily crushing it into powder that eventually dissolved into the air.

Ares let out a bloodcurdling scream of agony. "No! My regeneration powers…"

Kratos looked at him with disgust. "Now that you no longer have your source of regeneration, I can beat you up as much as I want. Even without your heart, I'm sure you still feel pain."

* * *

Kratos landed a solid punch on Ares's face, channelling all his pent-up rage and hatred towards Ares in this one punch. There was a sickening cracking sound as the fist connected with Ares's face…before his lower jaw fell off. _Literally. I'm not kidding._

The entire skin just tore off completely, jaw bones with gums, meat and all, with Ares's tongue dangling awkwardly from his gullet. Ares howled. Of course he did. Who wouldn't?

Kratos then punched Ares solidly in the chest, breaking his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. Drawing the Blades of Exile, which extended to having metre-long Blades, Kratos savagely hacked off Ares's legs, both of them, and it all happened in a split second.

Black blood spurted from Ares's legs; even his bones, which were supposed to be a thousand times harder and stronger than human bones were hewed off completely. Kratos punched Ares in the face again, this time knocking out his left eyeball. (I think it goes without saying that Ares continued screaming like a baby.)

The remaining eyeball stared at Kratos in terror, whose contorted expression of fury and hatred made it clear that the treatment was not going to end anytime soon. To make a long story short, here's what happened:

Kratos headbutted Ares, knocking out his remaining eyeball.

Kratos impaled Ares of the Blades of Exile.

Kratos drew his Divine Swords and pierced numerous gaping holes through Ares. Needless to say, there were large pools of black blood around them.

Kratos skewered Ares using the Divine Swords as well, twisting the handles so that the edges of the Swords shred away at Ares's black flesh. Kind of like drills. Excruciating business.

Finally, Kratos pulled out all his weapons and impaled Ares on the Blade of Olympus. Ares, who was already too weak from pain and blood loss to scream, simply lay limp on the floor as the Divine Power of the Sword blew him into millions of pieces of black confetti.

The Rohirrim had also overrun the Orcs and Uruk-Khai, who scattered when they saw their leader getting beaten up.

Eomer walked over to Kratos, who was still breathing heavily over his fight.

"You alright?"

Kratos took in a very, very deep breath and grinned. "Never better."


End file.
